


How they were before

by OperatedBubbles



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:46:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperatedBubbles/pseuds/OperatedBubbles
Summary: Imagine Deanmon escaping from the dungeon as Sam is trying to cure him. Instead of finding Sam, Deanmon finds you instead.





	1. Chapter 1

Feeling hopeless, you stared absently at the pages of the demonology encyclopaedia on the library table. Sam had Dean down in the basement trying to cure him of demonism. You hadn’t come across any lore that said the cure would work on a knight of hell. You had argued with Sam about the fact that The Mark of Cain hadn’t just turned Dean into a demon, but into a knight of hell and maybe the cure wouldn’t be enough.

Your phone buzzed, bringing you back into the present. It was a message from Sam. _Dean has escaped. Get somewhere safe NOW!_

“Shit!” you swore under your breath as you grabbed your gun and the angel blade. You figured the best course of action was to get to your room in the bunker and barricade yourself in until Sam and Cas had recaptured Dean. Raising your gun and holding the angel blade underneath you crept quietly and slowly towards the kitchen. You paused just before the entrance and took a deep breath before you peaked around the corner. Your heart was racing but the kitchen was all clear.

Stepping down into the kitchen you had almost made it to the other side when Dean sauntered in.

“Hello sweetheart,” he said with a menacing smile.

“Dean …” you whispered, suddenly terrified.

“Well, I was looking for Sam, but this will be much more fun,” Dean said spinning the hammer that was in his hand.

You raised your gun higher and aimed at his head, “Dean we need to get you back to the dungeon. The fact that you got out of the devils trap proves that the cure is working. We just need a little longer and then you will be cured.”

“You act like I wanna be cured,” he said taking a step towards you, “Personally I like the disease!”

“Ok, fine,” you said compromising with him, “Just let me get out of your way and you can leave the bunker.”

Dean chuckled, deep and menacing, taking another step toward you, “Oh I don’t think so sweetheart.”

“Dean, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean chuckled again, “That’s cute.”

He started towards you. You hesitated for a second and fired the gun hitting him in the shoulder He growled but didn’t slow. Knowing that you could never actually kill Dean you turned and ran. Bolting back up the kitchen stairs you felt Dean grab your ankle and pull you back. He twisted as he pulled you down and you landed on your back hitting your head on the bottom step. Your vision blurred as you brought the angel blade and the gun up in front of you. Dean was on you in a second, wrestling the gun from your hand. You tried to bring the angel blade up but Dean grabbed a hold of your wrist and slammed it into the step. You screamed as you felt your wrist snap and dropped the angel blade.

You brought your right hand up to push Dean off you as you kicked and wriggled underneath him. Getting nowhere you decided to head but him. He was momentarily stunned and you managed to get free. You spun to face him and aimed a kick at his midsection. He grabbed your ankle and twisted it again. This time so violently you felt both your ankle and your knee pop. Before you could scream out in pain he pushed you forward and smashed you into the kitchen bench, knocking the air out of your lungs. He slammed your head into the benchtop and pressed himself down on top of you. You could feel him behind you. He was excited. Dean kissed the nape of your neck and nibbled at your ear. You let out a sob.

“Now, now,” he said, “There’s nothing to cry about yet.”

You let out another sob. Hoping to heaven and hell that Sam or Cas would find you soon. Reaching out with your good hand you fumbled across the counter looking for anything you might be able to use as a weapon. Your fingers closed around a paring knife and you swung your arm back towards Dean. He released your foot and blocked your weak attempt at self-defence. Grabbing your hand he slammed it into the counter and took the knife from you.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said nuzzling your neck. Leaning forward he whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna tear you apart.”

He plunged the paring knife into the side of your already ruined leg and twisted. You let out a scream.

“Dean, please stop, please,” you begged between sobs.

“Oh, but sweetheart, we are just getting started.”

He grabbed your hair and threw you to the ground. Within seconds he was on top of you, both hands around your throat. With one good arm you clawed at his hands. Feeling your nails tearing into his hands trying to get him to let go. _Where the hell were Sam and Cas_ you wondered as black spots danced in front of you. You began to fight more frantically. You could not let yourself pass out. You could feel Dean’s hips grinding against you and felt how hard he was through your jeans. You had no doubt what would happen if you lost consciousness.

The edges of your vision started to fade away and your lungs felt as if they were on fire. You could feel you were losing the use of your good arm.

“Dean! Stop it!” you heard someone very far away yell.

You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you felt a breeze to your left and suddenly you could breathe again. Fighting your way back to full consciousness you saw Sam’s worried face looking down at you. Gently he pulled you into a sitting position.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

You shook your head but stopped suddenly when a wave of nausea came over you, “What the hell happened Sam? How did he get out?”

“I dunno. We were halfway through the treatment and I went to the storeroom to get more blood and when I came back he was gone. The treatment must be working. There was no way he could get out of that devils trap unless he was becoming human again.”

You nodded your agreement and grabbed the trash can that was next to you and threw up. Your adrenaline was starting to dissipate and all the fear you had felt moments ago came crashing back. Your wrist and leg ached and your head was pounding. Sam stroked your back as you threw up again.

“We’ll get Dean restrained and then we can get Cas to heal you.”

Catching your breath you wiped the side of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I don’t want Cas to heal me. Take me to a hospital.”

Sam looked at you quizzically, “But …”

“I don’t want to be here tonight Sam. Not with him. What happens if he gets out again? What happens if next time you and Cas don’t get to me in time? What happens if …” you started to hyperventilate as you felt panic rising in your chest. As you clutched at Sam’s shirt tears started falling.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Sam said softly hugging you into him, “Let’s get you up and get you to a hospital.”


	2. Chapter 2

You woke with a sudden start your hand in a death grip around the hilt of the angel blade you kept with you. Your eyes frantically searched your room looking for any type of threat, but found nothing. Your eyes fell to the clock on your nightstand. It was 2:04am. You sighed and counted slowly to ten in an effort to calm yourself down. For two days you had had the benefit of morphine to help you sleep, but now, your first night back at the bunker had proved restless. Sam and Cas had assured you that Dean was cured of being a demon. The Mark of Cain not affecting him that way anymore. Sam had promised you would not see Dean until you were ready. Relaying Dean’s message that he was truly sorry for what had happened, that he felt terrible and he would stay away until you were ready to see him.

You had told Sam and Cas it would probably take you a few days before you could face Dean, but you were lying. The thought of seeing Dean made your stomach churn. If you were honest with yourself you were starting to contemplate leaving them. Maybe if you went out on your own for a while you could forget about Dean and The Mark. You shook your head in an effort to stop the memories of that night coming back. With great difficulty you rolled over, clutched the angel blade to your chest and closed your eyes in an effort to get back to sleep.

“Son of a bitch,” you whispered and threw your blankets off you as the urge to pee came over you.

Terrified you might run into Dean, but also sure no one would be awake at this hour you grabbed your crutches and tucked the angel blade into the waistband of your pyjama pants and made your way slowly down the dark hallway to the bathroom. By the time you were done in the bathroom you were wide awake. More frustrated and in pain than scared now you decided that warm milk sounded like an excellent idea to get yourself calm again and back to sleep.

Hobbling into the kitchen you flipped on the light, placed your angel blade on the bench and lent your crutches against the wall to free up your hands. Careful not to make too much noise you grabbed a small saucepan, milk, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon and went to work on your warm milk.

You poured the warm milk into a glass and held it under your nose and inhaled the deliciousness that you had made. Lost in the fragrance you turned around slowly and saw Dean walk into the kitchen.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said with a small kind smile.

“Dean …” you whispered, suddenly terrified, the glass slipped from your hand and shattered on the floor. You frantically searched for your angel blade, which you had stupidly left on the other side of the kitchen. _Idiot!_ you thought to yourself as you took a step back forgetting about your injured leg. You gasped as your leg crumbled underneath you and you grabbed the counter top in an effort to not fall.

Dean took two steps towards you in an effort to help you.

“Stop! Don’t come near me!” you shouted throwing up your casted hand to protect yourself.

Dean looked absolutely heartbroken, “Ok,” he said taking a step back.

You pulled yourself upright and saw him looking over to the angel blade then back at you. He picked it up and you felt your breath catch in your throat and your chest tighten.

“Here,” he said sliding it across the counter towards you. Picking it up you held it out in front of you and keeping a hold of the counter took several steps away from Dean.

“Dean I’m not ready for this,” you choked out, tears falling freely.

“I know, I just needed to see you. I need to make things better.”

“Ambushing me in the place where you, where you …,” you couldn’t finish. You gripped the angel blade tighter and raised it higher. You couldn’t see Dean clearly anymore through all your tears and you didn’t want to be caught off guard.

“Here,” Dean said passing your crutches to you, “I’m going to move over here,” he pointed to a spot in the kitchen that was furthest away from you, “and you can go back to your room. I’ll clean up that,” he nodded towards the spilt milk and shattered glass. “Just be careful with your bare feet. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes and took the crutches from Dean. Manoeuvring the angel blade so you could hold it and your crutch in one hand you ever so slowly backed out of the kitchen making sure Dean was in your line of sight the entire time. You noticed for the first time his haggard appearance, hunch shoulders and beaten down expression. You knew demon Dean was gone. Demon Dean couldn’t hurt you again. Taking another step back movement caught your eye. Cas had appeared in the library some ways away and took a seat positioning himself so that you could see him but Dean couldn’t. Cas looked at you and you could have sworn you saw him wink. Thoughts rushed through you and you looked at Dean’s crestfallen face again.

Taking a deep breath and shaking slightly you took a step forward. “Dean …”

His eyes shot up and locked with yours.

“Do you think you could make me another warm milk? I was really looking forward to that.”

The ghost of a smile touched his lips and he nodded.

“But before you do, would you be able to bring me a chair. It’s kind of exhausting standing like this.”

Looking crestfallen again he raced away and came back with a chair for you. Striding over to you, you felt your chest tighten again.

“Stop! Dean, please. We need to do this at slower than snail pace ok? Even when you move, you need to slow it down. Everything slow and deliberate … please?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry,” he said stepping towards you cautiously and placing the chair a few steps away from you.

“Thanks.”

He turned his back to you and began cleaning up the broken glass and milk. You hobbled to the chair and collapsed into it with a groan. Dean turned to look at you but didn’t say anything. Looking back to the ingredients on the counter you heard him huff.

“This seems a little complicated for warm milk,” he said turning and holding up the vanilla.

You gave a weak smile, “It will be the best warm milk you have had. I promise. Put the milk and sugar into the saucepan and stir until the sugar is dissolved.”

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Well go on,” you pushed slightly.

Dean turned back to you a few minutes later, “Now what?”

“Slowly pour in the vanilla and keep stirring. Give it a minute and then pour it into a glass and top with cinnamon.”

Dean followed your direction and started walking towards you slowly. His hand outstretched as far as he could with the glass of warm milk. You took it tentatively from him. He turned and left the kitchen but came back moments later with a chair for himself. He sat opposite you a few feet away. You caught his eye and he quickly looked away. Looking down at your warm milk you took a sip. It tasted like pure heaven. You looked back at Dean and saw him looking sceptically at his milk.

“It’s good,” you whispered more to yourself than to him.

He took a sip and looked at you nodding. You could see tears in his eyes now.

“I am so sorry,” he said quietly, “I never ever wanted to hurt you like that. I never thought I _could_ hurt you like that.”

His teary green eyes looked into yours and you felt your eyes well up.

“Dean …”

“I can’t believe what I did, and what … and what I was going to do after you had passed out.”

Silent tears rolled down your cheeks. You had no words of comfort for Dean, you had no idea what to say.

“I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

“I don’t think that they will, even if they can,” you whispered.

“I’ve ruined everything,” Dean said wiping tears from his face, “I don’t know how you could ever forgive me.”

“I already forgive you Dean. I know it was The Mark twisting you into something you’re not,” Dean looked at you hopefully, tears welled in your eyes and you struggled to get your breath, “I forgive you Dean, but … I don’t know when I can trust you again.”

You could see on Dean’s face your words crushed him. He stared at you, fresh tears welling in his eyes. After what seemed like the longest time Dean stood and slowly walked over to you. He held out his hand for your glass. Dean started packing away the ingredients and started washing up.

“You should try and get back to sleep, you look exhausted,” he said in a monotonous tone, his back to you.

“Ok,” you choked out and made your way back to your room.

You were almost at your door when you heard crashes coming from the kitchen. Crying silently you listened to Dean destroy the kitchen one appliance at a time. You knew he wasn’t mad at you, but you knew your words were what had pushed him over the edge. You found your way back to bed, crawled down deep under the covers and surrounded yourself with pillows. Hugging one close to your chest you let it all out, sobbing uncontrollably until it hurt. You couldn’t breathe, your chest felt heavy, your stomach felt sick and you hurt all over. That night had ruined everything and you weren’t sure if you and Dean could ever be the way you were before.


End file.
